He ran toward the front of the shop, heart pounding, wondering where Gretel could’ve gone. As he opened the door, he heard a woman say, “Theodora, could I bother you to refill the toilet paper? I think someone took it—one can only assume to use as a makeshift mummy costume.”
Everett stopped, the door half open. Theodora. Teddy. Teddy could have been short for Theodora, couldn’t it? And how many Theodoras were there, really? Non-elderly Theodoras, that is.
He turned slowly to look at her and found her staring at him, mouth in a perfect “O,” looking as if he’d caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to do.
“It’s you,” he said, too quietly for her to hear.
“What?” the older woman asked. “Did that guy steal something?”
“Uh, excuse me,” said one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Everett realized he was blocking the door. And then he remembered that he had no idea where Gretel had gone. Damn those tiny fast legs!
“Shit,” he muttered, and then, to the TMNT, “Sorry, Raphael.” He ran out into the street, looking for his twelve-year-old sister, lost among the crowd.
“I’m Michelangelo,” the TMNT called, offended, but Everett barely heard him.
34
“Oh, no, Josie. Oh, no,” Teddy said.
“Seriously, what’s going on over here?” Josie said, a smile plastered on her face for the customer who was buying a puzzle. “Who was that guy? He was cute. Like Mr. Rogers but, you know, sexy.”
Teddy groaned. “That’s my pen pal. Everett St. James. Apparently he’s Gretel’s brother.”
Josie whistled—actually whistled—and said, “Well, damn, Theodora. I don’t know why you’re not chasing after him.”
“Because I don’t want him to know who I am!” Teddy sputtered frantically. “We had a perfectly charming conversation, and oh, he’s so cute, but at no point did I mention that we’ve been emailing for weeks. At no point was I like ‘Oh, by the way, I know your full romantic history and you’ve seen a terrible painting I made of Shaq.’ And also I’ve been building a friendship with his little sister, so he’s going to think I’m some sort of stalker even though that was entirely coincidental! Our emails are keeping me going right now, and now he knows how weird I am and he’s going to stop emailing me! I was dumped by half of a latex-wearing crime-fighting duo! I have so little to look forward to, Josie!”
Teddy stopped, panting.
Josie’s eyes traveled over Teddy’s face. “Why don’t you go home for the night, sweetie?”
“Tonight?” Teddy balked. “But it’s HighBall! This is one of our busiest nights!”
Josie patted her on the shoulder, already decided. “What you need is a cup of tea and a good night’s sleep. I know I say this a lot, but you’re gonna scare the customers. Also, I think you tore your costume when you were rolling around behind that trash can.”
Teddy let out a frustrated sigh as she looked at the rapidly expanding hole on her upper thigh. Soon, this costume was going to be a public-indecency risk.
And then she glanced toward the door. After Everett’s sudden departure, she was afraid he might be back, and the last thing she wanted was to have a longer conversation with him. She could still feel the way his strong hand had felt holding hers, the way his eyes had run over her face, the way that, even in the store, while Prince played and Everett’s sister and a bunch of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles looked on, she’d felt like they had a connection.
If he came back tonight, she was afraid that whatever she said would make it worse. He might ask her why she hadn’t mentioned that she was his secret email pen pal and she might threaten to puke again. Or maybe he wouldn’t come back—maybe their relationship wasn’t even special. Maybe he had email pen pals all over town.
“Fine,” she told Josie, then leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “And thank you.”
“Just come back tomorrow your usual perky, nonfrantic self,” Josie said. “Shoo. Get outta here.”
Teddy fled toward the back of the store, grateful for a boss who was a true friend. Maybe no one else understood why she still worked here, but she knew.
35
“Gretel!” Everett called into the crowd. “Gretel, where are you?”
“Bro, are you supposed to be Hansel?” asked a man wearing orange braids that stuck out.
Everett, momentarily distracted from his search, stopped. “I’m . . . no. I’m Mr. Rogers. Who are you, Pippi Longstocking?”
The man threw up his hands. “I’m the Wendy’s logo! What the hell? Why do people keep asking me if I’m Pippi Longstocking? I don’t know what that is and it sounds weird as shit!”
Everett didn’t have time to explain children’s entertainment to this profane stranger. He waved him off and kept searching the crowd.
Logically, he knew Gretel was safe. She hadn’t gone far and she could handle herself in most situations. But still, the idea that she was so little and he didn’t know where she was . . . it made him feel like his own heart was walking around outside of his body, possibly interacting with a sketchy adult.
“Gretel!” he shouted again.
“What?”
He frantically looked for the source of that small voice; then his eyes settled on her a few feet away from him.
“Gretel! Where did you come from? Where did you go?” Everett was so relieved to hear her that he didn’t even stop to acknowledge that he’d quoted the song “Cotton Eye Joe.”
“I had to get out of line for the Cajun food truck because someone wouldn’t stop yelling my name and it was freaking people out,” she said, looking irritated. But she returned his hug.
“Okay, listen. New rule when we’re in crowds, especially crowds full of people who are progressively getting drunker: do not run off by yourself,” Everett said, wiping a hand over his forehead.
“Not even if there are alligator bites to be had?” Gretel asked.
“Not even then!” Everett yelled, then took a deep breath. “I was worried, okay? And that girl in the shop—”
“No!” Gretel pointed at him, looking surprisingly threatening in her cute costume. “I saw the way you two were looking at each other. You are not allowed to hit on my friend Teddy.”
“Well, you can’t really tell me who to hit on, because I’m an adult and you’re a child,” Everett muttered. “But . . . what’s her deal? Is her full name really Theodora?”